


By Bright Moonlight

by saiditallbefore



Category: Historical RPF, Mongolian History RPF
Genre: Gen, Historical Inaccuracy, Horses, Wrestling, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 05:37:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13140180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saiditallbefore/pseuds/saiditallbefore
Summary: “I will not take a husband unless he can best me in wrestling,” she announces.Khutulun, her suitors, and 10,000 horses.





	By Bright Moonlight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Deepdarkwaters](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deepdarkwaters/gifts).



> The title is, of course, a reference to Khutulun’s name, which means “Moonlight”.
> 
> Special shoutout to the Stuff You Missed in History Class episode about Khutulun, without which this wouldn’t have been written!

The first suitor comes when she is a girl, after her first victory at her father’s side. He’s an officer in the army, wealthy and distinguished. He’s not quite as old as her father, but he is twice her age, and his mustache is tinged with gray.

But he is an honorable man, and a good soldier. Her father, the great Kaidu Khan, does not want to dishonor him by turning him away without reason. So Khutulun invents a reason of her own.

“I will not take a husband unless he can best me in wrestling,” she announces. She is already well-known for her prowess— she has been wrestling since she was very young and her brothers taught her their tricks. They had treated it as a game, until Khutulun had used their own tricks against them. At that point, they had quickly conceded her superiority.

The officer, her first suitor, quickly agrees to wrestle Khutulun, once he was is convinced of her sincerity. They are in an army camp, low gers all around them. Soldiers, who want to see the Khan’s daughter wrestle for her own hand in marriage, gather round.

Khutulun is tall, and broad-shouldered. Her suitor is taller than her, but leaner. They stand apart, the bare ground between them. Their eyes meet, and Khutulun wonders if he regrets this.

She rushes him. He is a middling wrestler, at best. They grapple, and a better wrestler might use his superior height to the advantage, but it is not long before she throws him down to the ground.

She is victorious.

* * *

The next suitor makes a bet: if he loses, he will give her ten horses. If he wins, she will marry him.

He is young and cocksure, and Khutulun isn’t sure he even has ten horses to his name. Perhaps he thinks to increase his status by marrying the daughter of the true Khan. 

She accepts. She has put forward her challenge; it would be dishonorable to revoke it now. 

Besides, this suitor is weedy and nearly as young as she is. He cannot be a particularly experienced wrestler.

Her estimation of him is right— it is only a few minutes before she sweeps his feet from under him. His knees hit the ground, and her father’s men cheer— she is victorious yet again.

To her surprise, the young man actually has ten horses. They are hearty creatures, with thick, gleaming coats. She sends them to graze with her father’s herd, thinking that she will choose one of them to ride in her next battle.

* * *

After that, the suitors keep coming, each of them with ten horses as his wager. When Khutulun rides out to battle at her father’s side, her suitors await her return so that they can challenge her prowess at wrestling.

None of them manage to best her. Khutulun has no husband, and a herd of several thousand horses. Her herd is larger than her father’s, now. He gives her servants to tend to her herd. She rides the best of her horses into battle. Always, she begins each battle by riding alongside her father, then galloping to the enemy’s front line, snatching a man, and dragging him back to her father to kill. She drives fear into her enemies— into invaders trying to steal their territory and into her cousin Kublai Khan’s soldiers trying to drive her father back and justify Kublai’s false claim to the title of Khan.

And after every campaign, Khutulun has yet more suitors, hoping to defeat her in wrestling and win her hand in marriage.

* * *

Khutulun is still undefeated when the southern prince comes. Not only is he a prince, he is wealthy and handsome and accomplished in battle. 

He brings a thousand horses with him.

“If I am defeated,” he says with a smile, as if to imply such a thing would be impossible. “Then the horses will be yours. If not, they will be a gift to your father, the great Kaidu Khan, in exchange for your hand.”

Khutulun hears him out, as she has all the others. But after his speech, her father and mother draw her into their room.

“Khutulun,” her father says. “Won’t you consider accepting his suit?”

She stiffens. “What are you suggesting?” 

Her mother places a comforting hand on Khutulun’s arm. “We are not suggesting anything, daughter. But the prince is undefeated in wrestling. I’m sure you may find him more skilled than your past opponents.”

Khutulun nods. When she is excused, she takes a walk to clear her head. They are staying for a short while at the palace, and she feels trapped. The walls here seem to close in on her. She misses the steppes, the gers, the expanse of stars that stretches on forever.

Her father, the pinnacle of all honor, has asked her to throw a wrestling match in order to find a husband. She wishes to be an obedient daughter. But how can she conduct herself so dishonorably?

* * *

Khutulun meets the prince for their match in the palace courtyard. Dozens and dozens of people, men and women alike, are gathered to watch. She has always drawn crowds, but this is larger than usual. She supposes word of the stakes being wagered must have spread.

He is handsome, it’s true. He’s tall, and broad-shouldered— more so than she is— and has a well-groomed beard. His arms are tan, with nicely defined muscles. 

She could do worse, as husbands go.

The match begins. She grasps onto him, trying to throw him to the ground. Or wait, no— maybe she should ease up, and allow him to throw her down? 

The thought is disquieting. She has never lost a match. She has never been the one to touch the ground first. She will not give up now. 

They are evenly matched, and grapple for a long time, moving back and forth around the courtyard. They are both beginning to tire when Khutulun sees her opportunity.

As he steps back, she thrusts her shoulder into him— hard. He stumbles. Khutulun throws her arms around his shoulders and with all her weight, she forces him down to the ground.

He collapses onto his knees, defeated.

The prince leaves in the night, bitterly humiliated. But, true to his word, he leaves Khutulun one thousand horses.

**Author's Note:**

> Sources:  
> [Lapham’s Quarterly](https://www.laphamsquarterly.org/roundtable/wrestler-princess)
> 
> [Rejected Princesses](http://www.rejectedprincesses.com/princesses/khutulun)
> 
> [Marco Polo](https://books.google.com/books?id=5SnVAAAAMAAJ&pg=PA463&lpg=PA463&dq=as+deftly+as+a+hawk+pounces+on+a+bird,+and+carry+him+to+her+father&source=bl&ots=5xr8-mLkqW&sig=70WKXHzLlfU4ZVzc_5lVX-j_O-c&hl=en&sa=X&ei=e8aqU9epAtO0yAT48YGQDA#v=onepage&q=king%20caidu's%20valiant%20daughter&f=false)
> 
> [ Missed in History Podcast](https://www.missedinhistory.com/podcasts/khutulun.htm)


End file.
